The Zeroth Hour
by thisdayandage
Summary: The Eleventh Doctor's Regeneration didn't go as well as you were led to believe. Missing bit from 'The Eleventh Hour'. The Doctor explores his new TARDIS, but gets struck by regeneration sickness. He must recuperate in the Zero Room. Contains Doctor!Whump
1. Eleven

**[A/N: This fic will have four chapters and has already been written, with whump to come later.**

** The extra part of The Eleventh Hour, which we didn't see.  
Right before The Doctor appears in Amy's garden once more and tells her;**

******"Sorry about running off earlier! Brand new TARDIS, bit exciting! Just had a quick hop to the moon and back to run her in",**

******because I don't beleive it was simply a trip to 'The Moon'.  
Rule #1: The Doctor Lies. He obviously had been into the Time Vortex. Why else would he have been two more years late?**

**The Fic is called 'The Zeroth Hour' or 'The 0th Hour', however that word should be spelt.  
Zeroth is a word okay, because I say so.  
Actually, it might be a word.  
Well, I don't know. Is it a word?**

**Anyway, onwards! ]**

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.._

With a step through the Atraxi's blue holographic projection of his previous incarnation, the Time Lord fully confronted the alien threat.  
"Hello, I'm The Doctor", he said, clad in his new attire. He let that sentence just sink in for a small while, for his audience's benefit, as well as his own, before finishing, "Basically, run".  
The ship that buzzed over the three people, stood on the roof of the hospital built up its electrical charge, humming and roaring, as it fled far off into the distance, as if it were a dog with its tail between its legs.

Over all the loud noise and his own smugness, The Doctor is quickly distracted by an awful feeling just over his ribs. Reaching, he tries to stifle the unpleasant feeling from its source.  
Amy lets out a loud disbelieving laugh of triumph, but is still watching the sky, expectantly.  
The Doctor felt a sudden burning heat over the left side of chest and at the same time hears the noise of the TARDIS engines. Reaching into the pocket of his borrowed jacket, he pulls out the source of the disturbance, holding it out, in the palm of his hand. It's the TARDIS key.

Rory feels a trifle like a coat hanger at present, with all of The Doctor's unwanted clothes slung over one arm. On top of that, he is at a loss of words, fumbling for something, _anything_ to say, but can't quite find his words in all his nervous hesitation and bewilderment.  
A million questions are buzzing around Amy Pond's head all at once. It's just been that sort of day.  
"Is that it?" she asks. "Is that them gone for good? Who were they?"  
When The Doctor voices no reply, both nurse and kiss-o-gram turn to face him. But The Doctor is already gone.

* * *

Racing back to Amy Pond's garden, where a brand new TARDIS is waiting for him. He comes to a stop in front of the time machine and takes a deep breath.  
"Okay", he breathes, eyes darting wildly, savouring the moment as he takes in the exterior shell and the fresh coat of paint his machine boasted, as well as the newly acquired symbol for St. John Ambulance.

Then, instead of simply standing there with his bow-tie askew, curiosity finally gets the better of him and he is keen to get inside. The Doctor took one last deep breath to prepare him, before hastily producing the small key. After plunging it into the lock he gives the door an energetic push open.

He has barely stepped inside, before he is stopped in his tracks, awestruck, with his mouth agape. The TARDIS greets him with a contented hum and The Doctor is bathed in the warm orange light of his home.  
"Look at you", are his first words to his rebuilt TARDIS. His eyeballs scan further and his whole face lights up with the most childish of grins. He is so very happy.  
The very light that filled this TARDIS was no longer dark and cold like the previous interior. No, this was warm and bright, but also _familiar_. His face changed to one of realisation. It was the same light he recalled from so long ago, back on Gallifrey. Of course, it is the TARDIS that is his true home now and it was almost as if his sentient ship was reflecting that. "Oh, you sexy thing", he continued, the massive grin returning. "Look at you!" he repeatedly exclaimed once more, before hesitating no longer and propelling himself forwardly within, to test his 'sexy thing' out.

Amy and Rory only arrived on the scene in time to hear the click of a door shutting and witness the bright flashes of light and feel the sharp gusts of air, as the TARDIS de-materialises, leaving them both behind. The same sound that had haunted Amy's childhood echoed in her ears. Once again she was left behind, waiting.

**[A/N: Okay, so this bit was probably nothing you didn't already know, but its just the beginning, to set the scene and all.**

**Getting to the plot with the next chapters and perhaps more importantly, the whump.**

**Any thoughts, comments, passing remarks? Leave a review. Ta! x ]**


	2. Inside

For the first time in a long time, his TARDIS has obvious stairways and corridors, leading from the console room. The Doctor realises how it makes the place seem a lot more inviting than the last interior perhaps did. Pausing at the couple of steps, leading up to his console, The Doctor is at first weary of what his TARDIS settled on for the console room floor.

Glass, seriously? Squatting down, he examines it for himself, squinting and concludes it should be thick enough to be safe. Gingerly, The Doctor steps onto the surface. Testing its strength, he lightly jumps. Satisfied, he stares straight down and grins from ear to ear when he sees how much room he's been given for tinkering below. No more pulling up gratings and sliding himself into cramped spaces! And wow, was that a swing? Turning, he reaches out and gives the console a grateful pat.

Marvelling at all his new console has to offer, The Doctor quickly familiarises himself with the new controls. However, he soon realises that the new design really made no difference to how well he flew the TARDIS. It was already in his head, via his symbiotic connection with his ship. Although, he had already managed to embarrass himself by accidently pulling one of the knobs clean off.  
Figuring that one bit probably wasn't too important anyway, he simply tosses it behind him. The knob makes several thuds as it bounces down a staircase, which then reminds him of what lies below.

Racing downward, he leaps into his new tinkering contraption and swings himself back and forth, revelling in the delightful motion. Gazing above, he eyed up the wiring. Already he was itching to get at them and make his own adjustments. Automatically, his hand had reached for his inside pocket, but it came away empty, except for maybe a feeling of anguish.  
He recalls the day's earlier events and how his screwdriver was fried beyond any chance of repair. Refusing to let that fact put a damper on his glee of a brand new TARDIS design, he sprung from the swing and headed straight back up to the console.  
Tapping away at the console's newly acquired typewriter, The Doctor sets the console its first official task. After the day's events, he is in need of a new sonic screwdriver. He knows his girl will deliver.

Making an about turn, towards one of the staircases, The Doctor stops. Rubbing both of his gangly hands together and licking his lips, he somewhat prepares himself for what he might find beyond this room. He can only imagine what he could possibly find. After all these years his ship still managed to surprise him.  
He takes one step forward, when it's like a shock has passed though him. The Doctor bends at the knees, as his body and face contorts into a pained shape and he cries out. Okay, so maybe proper exploration will have to wait just a while longer.

Like a wave, the edge of the pain is soon gone, as it crashes over him, but he's still left in considerable agony. Settling his hands and knees on the floor, he breathes through it and gets some relief when a wisp of excess regenerative energy exits him and meanders up towards the ceiling, soon being absorbed by the time rotor.  
Although still feeling rather lightheaded, he finds now he at least has the strength to stand. Steadily, the Time Lord ascended his way up the first staircase, in search of one room in particular.


	3. Zero

**[A/N: Thanks for the alerts and the first review. It means a lot to me, that my story is being enjoyed.]**

Regeneration was a dodgy process in itself, but The Doctor had never been very good at it. It was one of the things which made him feel slightly inferior as a Time Lord, this vulnerability of his.  
While some Time Lords he had known were even able to manipulate which form that they next took, The Doctor always went into his next incarnation with only blind hope of what he may look like. If he could have any control over it, he'd have been ginger by now. Although, he had been ten times consistent with keeping the same gender. That was at least something.  
It seemed odd, comparing himself to the rest of his race like that, since he was the only one of his kind left in existence. The only one to witness his suffering right now was his beloved ship, his last remnant of Gallifrey, as he navigated her shiny new corridors.

He'd put this off for too long. Any adrenaline that had got him through the last few hours had thoroughly worn off. Racing about and saving the planet, was not the wisest of things to do, when his body was still in the regeneration process. But he'd done it anyway and now he was paying for it dearly, with clenched teeth, as pain continued to rock through him.  
Head practically bursting now, The Doctor let out an agonizing scream. A sound he had refrained from using, when he was chasing Prisoner Zero with Amelia today. Now however, he let go completely. The scream echoed through the corridors and left the Time Lord panting heavily._ Its far too bright in here_, was all he could think. Yet no sooner had he thought the words, the corridor lights dimmed considerably. _Thanks dear_.  
Although no longer feeling as though he might vomit, he had to sit down a moment or his legs would give away. Sitting with his back against the wall, he noticed how cool his ship felt in comparison with his body and adjusted himself, so that his face was pressed against one of the columns. The Doctor attempted to collect himself, mentally pushing back any pain in his mind as best he could. Two shaking hands reached up to loosen his bow-tie, when with a gasp, another strand of golden vapour left him. It was finally time he rest and recuperate a little, just until his body settled into its normal balance of energy.

Part of him was frustrated by this.  
He hated being still for any one moment. He always had to be going somewhere, doing something, constantly on the move, constantly busy. That was how he chose to live his life, preventing himself from being left with his own thoughts.  
It didn't help to stress though, as his breathing became increasingly ragged. His mind was racing and the pain in his head thumped along with the rhythm of blood rushing behind his ears. What he needed, was a calming influence.  
Guided along by the gentle push from the sentient ship in the back of his head, he soon came to halt in front of his much required destination and pushed open the double doors.

The Zero Room was resplendent as ever, in its pinkish-grey hue and ever-lingering scent of rose petals which this chamber always seemed so perfumed with. _Mm.. Rose_, The Doctor murmured thoughtfully with a sigh.  
_What is, what was, what could be, what must not.._ it all had dulled, like someone turning down a dimmer switch, his 'time sense' was fading. The Doctor's entirety relaxed and he gave into the calming effects that are brought on by being in a place free of the random electrical and radiological disturbances which plagued the rest of the universe. Free also, from the physical laws that bound all other places, The Doctor began levitating at will.  
Now calm and restful, his mind began to retrace itself, like in a dream, processing the events it had seen and done. Past adventures flashed behind the Time Lord's heavy-lidded eyes. He watched them, but did not stir, like he might have if he was truly asleep and dreaming. His own lonely childhood, friends, faces, enemies, monsters, companions, even The Time War, they all drifted past and he was the observer, at peace with his own thoughts.  
_Apples are rubbish.. Believe for 20 minutes.. Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residents will be incinerated.. Silence will fall._


	4. More Inside

**[A/N: Thanks gain for the review and alerting. Its much appreciated. Last chapter now. Enjoy!]**

When The Doctor's eyes finally snapped open, he felt a world more stable. Breaking out of levitation, he stood up straight, both feet planted firmly on the ground. He checked his borrowed gold-plated wrist watch. One hour had passed. That is all he had needed to be feeling tip-top again. Well, almost tip-top. He could still probably do with good old cup of tea. Smiling brightly, he went in search of the kitchen.  
There's nothing like a super-heated infusion of free-radicals and tannin for healing the synapses. He tracked the room down quick enough and was soon settled down in a comfy chair with a warm mug pressed in his hand and munching on a couple of jammy dodgers. The very vapours of his hot drink were doing him wonders. Once he had finished it all off, he pocketed a few biscuits for later and was up and about to explore his sexy thing once more.

Bounding through the corridors, he opened each door with gusto, but slammed closed the endless storage rooms, full to the brim of various junk he'd collected throughout his travels, except for whenever he spotted something which held a particularly fond memory, such as the 'eyelash of the Tharaxicorn', which he was given for rescuing that one bake sale. _Thank goodness for his Limeberry pie!_ Pocketing each such find, he continued his exploration, but decided he should probably rig up his new outfit with trans-dimensional pockets sometime soon.  
When he found the library, he was slightly disappointed to find it no longer contained the swimming pool. However, he knew it was bound to turn up sometime.  
He located several bathrooms, which was always handy.  
He was grateful to find that the old girl had kept many of his previous companion's rooms.  
A quick check told him the garden was doing well.  
When he finally came across the wardrobe, The Doctor saw fit to give his new look the thorough once over. Stepping over to the full-length mirror, The Doctor was extremely satisfied with what he saw. Tugging at his suspenders and letting them snap back, he gave a twirl and winked at himself. No need to change the clothes, especially the bowtie. Bowties are cool.

The next room he entered was extremely familiar, though he'd never seen anything like it aboard the TARDIS before. It was a pale blue room, with one bed, covered in a patchwork quilt. It was a little girl's room, Amelia's room.  
"Okay girl, I get it", spoke The Doctor, patting the doorway affectionately. The TARDIS, in her own distinctive way, was sending him a message. He knew it was time to go back, back to Leadworth and back to that long-legged, ginger-haired Scot, who grew up with a crack in her wall. Mad, impossible Amy Pond, the girl whose house had far too many rooms and much too many staircases for a double-storeyed home.  
He had to get her sorted out and she was waiting.

THE END


End file.
